


How to steal a million

by Banbury



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: M/M, sort of crossover with the "Miami Vice" (pre-show Sonny Crockett)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 07:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9873338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banbury/pseuds/Banbury
Summary: Sometimes you steal for the money, sometimes you steal for the practice, and sometimes you steal for the love of it.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amonitrate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amonitrate/gifts).



> The story was written for the Highlander Secret Santa (ShortCuts) 2008  
> It wasn't my first HL story, though the first written in English, hope I made it readable :-)

Mac stumbled over the heap of clothing piled on the floor by Amanda’s suitcase and ungracefully landed on the bed, right on the other pile. “Ouch! Fuck, that hurts.” He moved over rubbing his hip and scattered the sweaters around. 

In the middle of the flashy women’s garments was a box. Not very large. Metal. Covered with orange apple-like flowers on the ivory background. There were old style photographs on each side – palace in Amsterdam; a family of man, woman and a teenage girl with a huge bow on the top of her head; coronation scene with the date 1898 and the other one under the name of _huwelijksplechtigheid 1901_. There were also two different portraits of the same elegantly dressed and crowned woman on the top of the box, one dated 1898 and the other 1938.

“What’s this?”

“Oh! I thought I’d lost it somewhere. Thanks, sweetheart.”

“But…?”

“Oh, nothing. Just … mementos.”

“Of…?”

“You know, nobody special. Just memory.”

He looked at her questioningly and pulled the lid up after her approving nod. Indeed, there was nothing special – yellowish pieces of paper stained with faded ink scribbles, old tickets, old cracked buttons, filigree clasps, several photos of unknown people in circus and army attire, and several other pieces he cast an eye at. He chuckled out of strange embarrassment; he never pictured Amanda to be that sentimental.

“I know, I know, it’s not in my character to dwell on old stupid stories…” Amanda shrugged, replaced the lid and dropped the box on the bed. Mac shrugged in turn, not knowing what to say to that, and busied himself in the galley. Amanda’s flight was due to depart in several hours and he wanted to feed her something memorable. 

He couldn’t shake off the feeling that Amanda wanted something from him – she was strangely diffident, not like her usual self, and vulnerably open, only that could have explained her willingness to show Mac this box. Or she might be manipulating him. Again. Mac scratched his head thoughtfully. He couldn’t decide whether to question her or to lose himself in cooking, praying she’d tell him on her own. 

It’s not that she never tried to play him before. Duncan decided to act as if there was nothing strange. He spent some time cutting vegetables for the salad and checking on the _fish coulibiac_. He felt restless and somehow _unbalanced_ ; he even burned the side of his palm a little, hissed through the teeth, threw the oven glove into the sink and marched over to stand above Amanda.

“So?” 

She glanced up the suitcase she was crouched over and shrugged. 

“Just tell me what you want. You spent the whole week here and said almost nothing; I mean I know you like me and all that but honestly, I don’t remember the time when you’d come to see me just because…” Mac paused, trying to find a better way to express his worry, sighed and returned to the galley, muttering under his breath, “You know I’ll help you anyway, why all that hugger-mugger?”

He was so absorbed in his thoughts and supervision over the _coulibiac_ that almost tripped over his own feet when Amanda cleared her throat behind him.

“Ummm…” He turned to look at her and was surprised to see genuine confusion on her face. “Actually, I’m not sure what I need from you, just, you know, the last time I saw Methos he was somewhat upset with me.” Amanda scratched the back of her head ungracefully and whispered, “You know, I really hate it, but maybe you could talk to him or… It’s really troubling me, you know.” Amanda wriggled her fingers uncertainly.

“Huh.” Mac didn’t know what to say to that and returned to his salad, thinking uneasily that it seemed to be another scheme. 

Amanda was silent until the coffee. She went to the fridge, took out his stored up bowl of chocolate ice-cream and nodded towards the couch. “Come on, dear, you should help me out, it’s eating me alive.”  
Duncan arched his eyebrow and settled beside his erstwhile lover.

“Okay, just hear me out and I know you’ll help me.” Amanda flipped her mobile open, looked through the pictures until she spotted the right one and thrust the phone in Mac’s hands. “By the way, do you remember him?”

He looked at the poorly visible though somehow familiar face of a man in his fifties with laughing eyes and dimples. There was something so achingly memorable about these dimples that Duncan had to find his voice before ask Amanda with false casualty, “And?”

“Ah!” She gazed at him in anticipation for several seconds, then frowned and elbowed him. “Come on, Mac, you know what am I talking about.”

“But…?” Duncan swallowed the lump in his throat.

Amanda cocked her head expectantly and he vividly remembered “five o’clock shadow” under his thumb and the dimples he liked to kiss and “shit, Mac, we’re going to be late” in the husky, smoke-filled voice that had always sent shivers down his spine.

“Where…” he cleared his throat and began again. “Where have you seen him?”

“Miami.” Amanda encouragingly waved her hand.

Duncan didn’t know how much she’d already known or suspected. He swallowed and tried to free his chin from Amanda’s steel fingers. “What?”

“Don’t be shy, darling.” Amanda’s voice was quite amused – she clearly didn’t understand his sudden shyness and he couldn’t bring himself to tell her about his rare experience of being the passive part of the relationship…

_…because he always preferred to be the dominant partner – Duncan turned his head and looked at his heavily breathing companion. It was hot, Sonny’s short dark sweaty hair stuck to his forehead, damp sheet shifted almost to his knees and Mac suddenly realized that his tongue itched to lick drops of sweat from his lover’s tanned chest. It wasn’t new for the Highlander to be attracted to man to the point that he wanted him physically, so to say. It was just - they practically jumped each other the minute they were introduced._

_Sonny shifted, rolled to his side and put his head on Duncan’s shoulder. It had been a long time since Mac had been that comfortable with the other man, a bit disturbing though nice.  
“Don’t think so loud.” A husky sleepy voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and Mac turned his head to nuzzle his lover’s ear. He felt a warm lazy hand trailed down his side to the hip and then lower, fingers carefully cupped his balls. He spread his legs wider and closed his eyes, feeling serene and right where he wanted to be. _

_“Do we have time?” Sonny appeared above him, smiled down and tantalizingly, slowly slid his finger into Mac’s heated center._

_“Dunno… Just do it…”_

Duncan suspiciously stared at Amanda with narrow eyes. “So what?” She stared back with unreadable expression. “Oh, you… Okay. This is Sonny Crockett. We were… we were… we-”

“… were one-time lovers. You know, dear, I’m not jealous and you’d obviously been happy that time, so…” she felt silent and looked at her friend slightly embarrassed. “Oh, I see.”

“What?” Mac felt nervous.

“Nothing, Duncan.”

“What, dammit?” He watched as Amanda stood and began to put the last things in her suitcase. “’Manda.” She didn’t look back at him and Mac had to turn her forcefully around. She barely held her laugh back.

“Oh…” Mac didn’t know what to say, though he strangely didn’t feel insulted. At least not because his lover, knowing him as well as she did, guessed the source of his embarrassment right.

An unexpected buzz assaulted his senses and both immortals got to their feet, watching the door. The greeting was unusual for Methos – no “hi”, no asking for beer, no dry English humor.

“So, Amanda?” 

She looked at the oldest immortal a bit sheepishly. “I’m getting to it, I’m getting.”

“Way too long to just ask one question.”

“I’m getting…” 

“Hey, girls.” Mac felt left behind and out of the loop. “What’s this about? Why are you suddenly concerned about my love li…” Something snapped at the back of his mind and he dived into Manda’s suitcase. Several minutes and three bags later he emerged with The Box, tore its lid up and overturned it over the coffee table. The contents formed an untidy heap with the huge brooch on the top. “I’ll be damned! It _was_ you, after all! And I’d been hoping just for once you were in the clear. ”

Two other immortals widened their eyes with false modesty and looked down at the…

_… huge golden brooch in the shape of grapevine with emeralds and rare black diamonds. Mac put the photo down on the table and hissed, trying to pry Crockett's hand from the inside of his thigh. “Shit, Sonny, stop it right now. I need to concentrate and look this file over. After all you’ll have your money in any case, and I’ll have mine only if my buyer’d be satisfied.”_

_“You’re no fun, Mac. You owe me one big for that sacrifice – I’ll tell you all myself, even show you the pictures of supposed thieves.” The police officer snatched the file from immortal’s hand and dragged him out of the police station. “Hey, Eddie, we’ll be at Berny’s,” He called to his partner and let the door slap Mac on the rear._

_Macleod was involved in the case accidentally. He’d been in the city trying to buy the artifact in question for one of his buyers, and he'd already been acquainted with the Gonzales family before they'd asked him to be the mediator between them and the police. Unofficially, as an expert._

_“So, basically you are telling me the thieves jumped from the ceiling, took that brooch and several other items and vanished into the thin air.” Mac closed the file and thoughtfully tapped it with his pen. It sounded achingly familiar, so familiar that he was afraid to think of it. It sounded suspiciously like Amanda. That was the dilemma – he didn’t want to expose his long-term lover, loyalty and all that. On the other hand he didn’t want Sonny to look bad in the eyes of the powers that be._

_“…and told he was a representative of the Higgins Armory Museum.”_

_“Huh?” Mac missed all Crockett’s words and blinked when he was suddenly elbowed._

_“Didn’t you hear me?” Sonny thrust another file into his hands. Inside were several photos of a young man – slender build, dark mop of hair, out-of-date shades. Duncan definitely didn’t know him, and glanced at his companion questioningly._

_“His name is Matthew Adamson. He was the only stranger who had visited Gonzales’ house last month. He claimed to be the specialist in the ancient weaponry from the Higgins Armory Museum, but in addition to the collection of Spanish and Italian ancient weaponry, he was also shown the other parts of the Gonzales' treasures.”_

_Mac cocked his head and looked at Sonny, waiting for the explanation. This man wasn’t the one he could imagine near Amanda. Too… bookish. There must be something more._

_“Miss Gonzales told us he was impressed by the brooch.”_

_“And?”_

_“We checked him out. He worked for the Higgins museum for some time on the project. Not anymore.”_

_“So, you have one suspect.”_

_“Oh, no!” Sonny licked his lips, distracting Mac for a second. “We have the picture of a woman who’d been waiting for him in the car every visit.”_

_“Huh.” Naturally – there was Amanda. Dark, quite Spanish-looking, but Amanda nevertheless. Mac sighed. He felt his head pounding and he didn’t want to work at all, especially on the case that required him to help Amanda get out of it. “What do you think if we headed back to the hotel?” he asked._

_Sonny slowly licked his lips._

The Highlander shook his head, coming out of his reverie and the realization gradually dawned on him. “That was you!” He rested his finger against the Methos’ chest. “I’ll be damned!” His wayward friend shrugged nonchalantly and went for beer.

“Duncan, dear, you know, it’s not what you think. We really needed…” Amanda waved her hands uncertainly, trying to find a way out.

“You knew him.”

“Of course I know him.” She tapped Mac’s shoulder with false concern.

“I mean back then.”

“Yes? Hum, yes. I mean, I knew him, hum, way back. I mean wa-ay back, you know.” She began to play with the brooch, looking pointedly towards her older friend. “Okay, I wanted to tell you the first time that I knew him, but you were so proud to meet him that I felt like I'd spoil it.” She finished, smiling.

Mac felt himself blushing but recovered quickly. “It's more likely that you didn’t want to tell me about your crime partners.”

“Oh, no, Mac! It was that one time, and I’d had enough of Amanda-the-thief for the next five thousand years.” Methos put the bottle down and took the brooch from Amanda. 

He produced from god-knew-where a small lens, the kind a jeweler’d use and began to examine the stones, his movements efficient and professional. Then Methos fished out small tweezers. He made several effective motions and one of the diamonds came out of its nest. 

The younger immortals watched this expert sorcery with due astonishment. Mac realized he could imagine the oldest immortal as many things but not an artisan. He knew he was being unfair but couldn’t help himself.

“Shit! This one is fake as well.” He carelessly tossed the bijou on the table beside the beer bottle. 

“What do you mean - this one too? But I made just two copies and…” Amanda’s voice trailed off and she grinned sheepishly at Mac. “It's good you don’t see your police beau anymore, since I just made a confession.” It sounded so surreal that three of them burst out laughing.

“You mean you made two copies of the stolen brooch, after...” Mac looked questioningly to Amanda. She nodded. 

“The one you’d given to me, the second is that one and the third is – where?” She scooted a little to place the Highlander between herself and Methos, who kept dark silence. 

“You know, Methos, dear, I made it just in case. You know – in case. That’s all.” Amanda didn’t sound particularly frightened, she had never been intimidated as far as Mac’d remembered. Though he knew she easily could’ve fooled him, just as that time.

_Duncan didn’t remember last time he'd felt himself this content and relaxed. Satisfied. Lazy. He stretched luxuriously feeling every bite on his shoulders, and a slight, but pleasant ache inside. He saw out of the corner of his eye Sonny watching him with fond smile._

_“How long can you be here?”_

_“Dunno. How long do you want me?”_

_“Forever.” Mac chuckled, knowing full well that his lover didn’t really mean it, but it still was nice to hear. It had been a long time since somebody wanted him forever._

_“Deal.” They laughed low, feeding each other with the sense of being cherished and loved. It was a blessing to know there was a person around who’d truly give a damn about you, nevertheless how temporarily it’d be. Crockett kissed Duncan hard before got out of bed._

_“I have to go, Mac, but I’ll see you tonight.” The Highlander nodded, watching him dressed, and kissed him goodbye at the door. He was about to close it when the buzz hit him in the head._

_“Fuck,” He sighed and opened the door wider. “Amanda.”_

_The woman sneaked in his room and faced Mac – worry in her eyes, biting her lower lip and clutching her bag to her chest. She was the perfect picture of a one innocent bystander running from the trouble._

“So, you’d meant Methos when you told me he’d kill you and you couldn’t tell me where’d you'd gotten this brooch, but you’d better turn it in to me, as I knew the investigating officer.” Mac shook his head incredulously. “You were good.”

“I’d really killed her, Mac, honest.” Methos picked up the beer again but didn’t drink.

“I believe you, my friend. I'd've killed her too if I were you.”

“Hey, the fair sex here. I was only the tool, Methos, by the way; it was solely your operation.” Amanda still kept the Highlander between her and Methos.

“The tool, why! Don’t sell yourself short, dear Manda, you’d played us masterly as always.” The oldest immortal made a step towards her and Amanda turned her living shield to face the upcoming threat. 

“Don’t, Amanda, just tell me where the real one is and we’ll be even.”

“Uhm, Methos… if the one I’d been given was fake, and I mean it – we’d made qualified examination; the one you’d had then was a counterfeit too and this one isn’t the real one, then…” Mac picked up the discarded jewelry and weighed it.

“You mean, Gonzales’ already had the copy in their possession. So, when…” Methos faltered, frowned and sighed in frustration. 

Mac shook his head.

“I don’t remember whether I’d seen the papers myself or not, but Crockett’d told me at one moment that the older Gonzales confessed to him the stones weren’t the genuine ones. The knowledge passed down only to the head of the family. However, they priced it very high because of the family history or something like that. Even I hadn’t known that.”

“So… So…” For the first time, Mac saw Methos speechless. “You mean that it was _me_ who’d had the fake jewelry first hand? But I knew it was the original piece, I was the creator, for fuck’s sake. A member of their family was my assistant then and he’d stolen it from me. That’s why…” Then realization slowly dawned in his eyes, and Methos calmly turned to Amanda. “By the way, dear, wasn’t it you who’d been visiting me right before that assistant took off?”

Amanda shrugged helplessly and made tiny step towards the door. “Don’t know what you're--”

“Amanda!” Duncan Macleod watched in utter amusement as his longtime friend bolted through the door and the oldest immortal was right on her heels, yelling, “Don’t even try, Amanda! I’ll find you anywhere! You’ll fucking pay me for it!” The sounds dissolved into the frosty air. 

The Highlander sighed, looked over his ravaged room and began collecting Amanda’s bags scattered around the floor. Her beauty case flipped open and various items rolled to his feet. Huge golden brooch dully winked at him from under the heap of tubes and bottles of perfume. “I’ll be damned!”


End file.
